Recollection
by ninasdreams
Summary: It's been almost a year since Angela and Noah had Matt brainwash Sylar. Now the truth is surfacing, and Peter is the one who has to deal with the mess. AU post - "An Invisible Thread" Sylar/Peter later
1. Agony

**a/n: This is my first Heroes fic, and one of my few forays into slash. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: Heroes and it's characters/plot are not mine. This is all purely recreational.**

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****Recollection**

Nathan/Sylar's POV

It was those tiny blue sparks in his hand that finally released the flood within me and brought me to my knees.

I clamp my eyes tightly shut against the excruciating pain as images stream across my mind's eyes. I can see a blonde woman chained to the floor; crying, screaming, sparking…

_Elle._

The pain increases to an agonizing level as the scenes fly by faster. Memories, I realize, as what had been suppressed for almost a year begins to rapidly click back into place.

My biological mother, dead by my father's hand.

Brian Davies…Elle…Claire…Peter…Kirby Plaza…Pinehearst…My abilities…Danko…Nathan…

The woman who was my mother in all but blood, staring at me with wide eyes as the scissors protrude from her chest, crimson life pouring from the wound to pool around her as she collapses.

But it is not simply a matter of filling in empty spaces. I can feel Nathan's memories and the memories of my life as Nathan warring with the truth. The agony is unbearable. I don't know when I start to scream, long pain-filled cries that personify my suffering.

I can't say whether the immeasurable pain coursing through me is physical, brought on by my body shifting from the guise of Nathan to my own form after so long, or if it's mental and emotional, a result of everything _Nathan_ being ripped from its place and pushed out by my true memory and sense of self.

Regardless of the cause, I can feel myself shuddering uncontrollably from the torment, wracked with choking sobs as I distantly realize that I'm crying out for all of it to stop.

I manage to force my eyes open for a brief moment, lifting my head with tremendous effort to meet Peter's shell-shocked gaze.

"_Please…_" I beg through gritted teeth. "_Help me_."

There is no warning as the blessed relief of unconsciousness claims me.

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Don't like it? Read and Review. I can't get better if I don't know what to improve. please? They're what keep me writing.


	2. Empathy

Peter's POV

I had been ecstatic when I'd burst into Nathan's study, quickly telling him about my ability miraculously returning to its original state, bringing all of my old abilities back with it. I had demonstrated by allowing a small ball of electricity to crackle to life in my outstretched palm…and everything went to hell.

I watch as my brother's eyes go from genuinely happy for me to wide-eyed shock. It doesn't last as pain replaces shock and he drops to his knees, clutching his head and clenching his eyes shut.

"Nathan! What's wrong?!" I cry, moving to step towards him.

I stop short as an agonized scream bursts from his lips, sending a chill down my spine. He is shaking, clutching the sides of his head so tightly that I can see his knuckles turn white.

My heart is racing as I wait for the paramedic side of me to kick in and release me from my frozen horror. The screams intensify in volume and pain and I can see tears beginning to stream down Nathan's face.

It's those tears that break the spell I'm under, and I rush forward. I reach out to put a steadying hand on his shoulder…and recoil as his skin begins to ripple.

The ragged yell that issues forth brings tears to my eyes, even as I gape at the transforming figure before me with sinking dread.

I am now staring at the shuddering form of the supposedly dead Sylar.

Despite this twisted turn of events I feel my heart wrench at the choked sobs coming from him as he repeats over and over,

"Make it stop. No more. Make it stop."

I know all too well what this man before me has done in the past, the blood that is on his hands. But looking at the tears that are still falling and the pitiful pleas coming from the shaking form before me, I can't stop myself from wanting to help him.

Whether or not it was my empathy kicking in, the suffering and desperation in those eyes as they met mine snapped the last of my resistance.

"_Please…_" he begs. That voice, so ragged and different from the smooth confidence I know, tugs at me like nothing else. "_Help me._"

I barely make it in time to catch him as unconsciousness takes him, his body still shivering in my arms.

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**I haven't decided if I want to continue this or not. Feel free to tell me what you think.**


	3. Broken

**a/n: I am extremely grateful for all of the reviews that I've gotten for this story! I didn't expect so much feedback, but the response to this story has prompted me to continue it. This fic is now AU as of 4x01/02, but then does it really matter? Enjoy.**

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**Recollection**

Nathan. Sylar. Nathan…

Two sets of memories keep streaming through my mind.

There's a day in Central Park, where I'm horsing around with a young Peter and teaching him how to throw a perfect curve ball.

Then there's a young gangly boy being shoved around and laughed at in the local park, helpless and pathetic as passersby just walk on past, turning a blind eye.

I remember mom glowing with pride as I announce my campaign for senator, Peter's warm hug of support when I tell him.

But I also remember my mother's sigh of disappointment when I follow in my father's footsteps and become a watchmaker.

Two lives, one full of laughter and smiles and accomplishment, the other filled with tears and pain and disappointment. But everything is blurred together, my memories but…not.

Why can't I tell the difference?

I can feel myself starting to panic. What if I'm stuck in this limbo between identities?

I'm Nathan. I'm Sylar. I'm both. I'm neither.

I'm broken…

And this time, I don't know how to fix it.

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**The next part of this is already being written up so I should have it out within the next couple days. Please continue the feedback, as it is what keeps this story alive.**


	4. Empty

**Recollection**

Peter's POV

This is wrong.

Nathan is dead, has been dead for almost a year.

All I can do is stare listlessly at the man lying unconscious on my couch, the man I'd thought was my brother all this time. The man I cared about, confided in, laughed with, poured my heart out to…it was all a lie.

I know should feel sorrow, should feel anger, hatred, anything…

But all I feel is hollow.

All I can do is sit here on my floor and lean my head against the wall, asking myself…

How? How could I not have noticed that my brother wasn't my brother?

I look at the still form draped upon my sofa as a small moan reaches my ears.

This man is a killer, a heartless killer who has done nothing but terrorize my family and friends. He's tried to kill me on more than one occasion and succeeded on some.

Why would this monster pose as my brother all this time, and then suddenly lose it now?

I don't know what to think anymore, and it doesn't look like Sylar is going to be conscious anytime soon for me to get some answers.

I have to know. I need to understand why.

A small sound draws my attention back to my unexpected guest. Was that a…whimper?

I debate with myself momentarily, but it isn't hard to make a decision.

It's time that I delved into the mind of my rival. Maybe then I can get some of my answers.

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**You know the drill. Feedback is loved.**


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